


Forced Meeting

by NumberFivePlease



Category: Historical RPF, Third Reich - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NumberFivePlease/pseuds/NumberFivePlease
Summary: Everyone in the office knows your name and loves your personality except one. One man hasn't spoken a single word to you since you started, but you're about to fuck his shit up and force him to know who you are.
Relationships: Alfred Rosenberg/Reader
Kudos: 3





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very short into to a longer piece.
> 
> Marked 'E' for future planned shenanigans.

You have been working at the Völkischer Beobachter for near enough three weeks now, half-writer, half-photographer. Most people in the office know your name and cheerfully greet you when you arrive in the morning; clearly a reflection of your own bubbly personality. But there is one man who seems to be completely oblivious. The editor, Alfred Rosenberg. Naturally the editor of a daily newspaper has a lot of work to do, but even the publisher, Max Amann, has managed to find time to talk to you on a number of occasions.

So today is the day you are going to force your acquaintance on this man. The others have warned you about him, told you not to bother trying to get through to him.  
“His heart’s as cold as his Baltic hometown, no use trying to warm it.” That was the advice from Herr Amann a few days ago. Still, you’re determined. You’ve always preferred the hard-to-get men, and this one is no different.

As you enter the office you stop for a moment to look around; Herr Amann’s secretary is fluttering about, criss-crossing the room collecting papers. The desks, eight in all, sit in two columns. Hermann Esser, the editor of the Illustrierter Beobachter, is sitting at his desk, front left, going through the latest shots from you and the other photographers. Your desk is the second on the right from the door and right behind you sits the mystery man who is about to learn who the fuck you are.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meeting: good or bad?

You were normally a trouser kind of gal, you loved how powerful they made you feel. Plus, who wouldn’t want to dress like Marlene Dietrich? But today you chose a different kind of power. Today, as you waltz into the office, you’re wearing a black skirt cut just above the knees with a lovely pair of stockings, coupled with a light blue fitted blouse, tucked at the waist and with a couple of buttons open at the neck.

As you walk towards your desk you size up the man sitting in the desk behind it: fairly tall and slender, wearing a three-piece suit that’s a tad too big for him. Dark hair and icy blue eyes set beneath extraordinarily arched eyebrows; likely the reason that he always looks like he’s set to murder the next person who strays to close. You feel a sudden rush of blood as you wonder whether he can be as cruel as he looks. . . hopefully he can be.

You shove your chair out of the way as you reach your desk and perch yourself on top of it, right leg gracefully crossed over the left, facing the cold hearted editor.  
“Herr Rosenberg,” you say as clear as day.  
The bastard keeps his head down, scribbling away at some draft or other. You look up at the ceiling in despair and catch sight of Hermann Esser glancing at you with a smirk, clearly amused by your attempt to socialise with the ape in front of you. For the second try you decide to go a bit further.  
Again, “Herr Rosenberg,” as you swing one leg and tap the front of his desk with your shoe.  
This time he raises his head, albeit slowly, still as expressionless as before. Then you see his eyes widen as he follows your legs: your skirt has ridden up from kicking his desk, leaving your stockings exposed. Was that a flash of colour in his cheeks there?  
You pipe up to draw his eyes away, “I thought I should probably introduce myself considering I’ve been here a while...”  
He interrupts you mid sentence, “Oh I know who you are Fräulein, Max has told me about the good work you’ve been doing for us.” He only makes eye contact for a few seconds before looking back to the mess of papers on his desk.  
“Max has told you about my good work, has he?”, you think to yourself. Of course he doesn’t give you a direct compliment. Before you get a chance to respond he gathers his papers, makes some excuse, and leaves.

You really hate failure, and what just happened was undoubtedly a failure, but to make things worse you can hear Esser behind you trying his best to stifle a laugh. You hop off your desk, pace over to his, and sit yourself down on a chair in front of him.  
“Fuck off, Hermann,” you say, almost sulking.  
“What are you trying to achieve with him, anyway?” Esser asks in an almost conciliatory tone.  
“To be able to have a conversation with him, I guess?”, you didn’t sound convincing, “I get along with everyone else.”  
Unfortunately Esser picks up on your hesitation.  
“You sure it’s not something more you want from him?”, he’s giving you that look, that I know what you’re up to you sneaky devil look. He continues on, “He’s hardly a ladies man, you know. No Schwuler, but far too introverted to go after a woman he likes.”  
You can feel the smugness radiating off him at this point and you brace yourself to leave as he says, reaching to place a hand on your cheek, “Unlike me.”  
“Nope!”, you blurt out. Time to go, up out the seat, turn and head towards the door. You hear Esser let out a sigh and mumble, “Worth a shot,” as you walk away. At least he didn’t take it too seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun stuff planned for next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos if you want this idea to continue. Comments more than welcome.


End file.
